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I'm Getting Too Old for This-Unwilling Adventures in Middle Earth

Partially inspired by this thread:http://forums.lotro.com/showthread.p...uest-for-Moria and it's predicessors, I have decided to chronicle the travels. I will be adhering to most of the Total Immersion rules described there: resting in an inn or similar during night cycles, walking instead of running, and the like. If you want to read all of them, go check out the Total Immersion thread (seriously, this is a cheap knock off, go checm out the original).

So, who will be our daring hero as we traverse the lands of Middle Earth?

Ah. Yes. This is Handron. He's old, though not over the hill. He's not exactly the kindest soul, and all things said, he probably would rather just go home.

Then why is he traversing Middle Earth? Various reasons outside of his control, and mostly because Illuvitar has one weird sense of humour.

It Begins, Part 1

Go out to the countryside, they said. The fresh air will do you good, they said.

What good the fresh air is doing me now...

I was doing perfectly well in my old home, but some "helpful" individuals decide that it was best if I got away for a time. And wouldn't you know, as soon as set foot in Breeland after a long and uncomfortable ride in the back of some cart, I was set upon by some ruffians. Why they threw me in here to rot I'll never know. I do know that if I ever find those "helpful" folks who suggested this, they will NOT be pleased when I have a word with them.

Of course I needed to get out of the cell first. Fate was kind to me in that regard by unlocking my cell door. It was rather unkind in the choice of hand it used.

This is where my nice and simple life promptly curled up and died.

This lad, this Strider as he called himself, promised me a way out, but not without some effort on my part. As though I was going to simply wait for an easy rescue! Not two feet from the cell does the fool give me a sword near as big as I was! Asked if I knew how to use it.

Do I look like I'd ever used a sword in my life?

We ended up getting seperated, thank heavens, because he had others he needed to see to. It figures, I'm rescued as an afterthought. After running into some ruffians I managed to learn a thing or two about swordplay. Namely, swing and don't let anything pointed touch you. Not as difficult as one might imagine. Still, who gives a man my age a sword and expects everything to go well?

After a ways, I nearly stepped on what I thought was a child. When she spoke to me in a grown woman's voice, I nearly fell over. This was no little girl, but a halfling, something that was only a story at home.

Somehow, throwing a torch at the roof seemed a valid escape plan to her.

We stumbled across another halfling, a rather grating boy I nearly ran though once or twice, before finding the last man whom Strider was searching for, a ranger like him.

It Begins, Part 2

But we weren't alone.

I am far to old to be dealing with things like this.

Some... thing, dark as night and tall as an oak, was with the man Amandir, nearly stopped my heart it did. Strider drove it off-where he was all this time I wish I knew-but not before it put its steel into the poor lad.

We left promptly after that, to a small town called Archet. I don't really remember much else about that night. I just needed to find somewhere to think.

The local tavern served that purpose well.

After all, I had been living a quiet life until now. What was I to do with all this that had happened? Would I be able to return to my old life, or was I now trapped in a cruel fate chosen for me by the hand of destiny and a scrubby woodsman.

Yes, I thought long and hard that night.

Thinking. Yes. It was my THINKING so hard that made me forget to find a bed before I fell asleep.